Somewhere I read-this woman who had her thyroid out. A thyroidectomy-if you will and you don't have to-and when her friend asked how they could help, she told them she wanted chocolate and scarves. Ya know like, scarves to cover the scar.
What I know about wounds is that they really like air. They don't like sun necessarily but they don't want to be covered up. I don't know where this falls on the odd scale, but when I came out of my anesthesia stupor, I looked at my scar and to me-it looked exactly like a purple smile. Which has a cool factor of 5003, in my opinion.
And then there's the $3000 cover-up. Where you can get your online profile surgically altered because gawd fahbid anyone know that you've been visited by the cancer fairies, right? So dumb, so dumb, so dumb.
Not doing that either.
The Saturday after my Thursday surgery, we were signed up for a program at Wellness House. It was a sort of a Nutrition Fair. We thought we could just cruise the tent and go, but they had these break-out sessions available-which was LVVL because it was cold and crazy windy in that tent.
Our first session was about growing your own herbs. To be completely honest, I was mostly making sure I could sit through it-as opposed to taking fabulous notes but I did learn that most garden hoses have lead in them.
We left that session with these circles of seeds. A parsley, a basil and an arugula and instructions about how to plant them.
I skipped the next session because my doctors orders are to take it easy and I wasn't exactly sure where my edges were(strength-wise)so I sat on a little bench on the hallway while P took then knife skills class. He said it was great.
Our third one-we went in different directions. I went to the Prevent Reoccurrence and P went to the cooking demo. Mine was lead by someone from Cancer Centers of America-is that what it's called? They're so weirdly commercial, no? Mine was all-diet and exercise and making small changes and...no big ah-has there and P got to watch somebody make a very complicated salad.
The tent was a great experiment for me in saying no. All these vendors trying to get you to taste what they're selling. Like Juice Plus-no I don't want to eat 27 green vegetables in a capsule, no thank you. So that was really good. No no no plus no.
(Also-I know this is conspiracy theory-esque, but one of the freebies at this fair were bottled water from Dasani-which is owned by Pepsi and ALWAYS tastes really weird to me. Ya don't think drinking out of plastic bottles isn't gonna have some effect on your mystery chemical intake?)
Sunday, we swung out to see my Dad and he donated some "These. he said, Are Free." clay pots for the great seed sewing of 2016. Then we hit K-Mart for some topsoil. It was not recommended to use Miracle Grow because those chemicals may not be our friend.
I (don't) feel bad about my neck/Purple Lipstick
There was that book, right? (I prefer this book-especially Rule Number 1. ) Last night, I picked up some propaganda from Cancer Centers and there was an article that suggested that problems of the thyroid be watched as opposed to removing the thing because the taking of the Synthroid or Synthrex or whatever it's called, may be too difficult.
I dunno. I'm feeling pretty fantastico compared to how I thought I'd be feeling. I'm not allowed to drive, not supposed to purposely stretch my neck and I have to go back to get these steri strips taken off eventually and there are mounds of paperwork that have to be shuffled-does that count as heavy lifting? (Signs point to yes.)
We stopped yesterday to get Grantley some food and the young woman who waited on us had purple lipstick and now I want some too.
Purple lipstick is a sign of life.
Purple lipstick is a sign of life.